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WHO: Tim Gutterson
WHERE: The river
WHEN: Backdated to May 10th
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Just Tim, I Guess
STATUS: Open
Like clockwork, Tim wakes up with the sun. It doesn't matter how late he stays up, doesn't matter what time he finally crawls into bed. He can never seem to sleep past 6:30 at the latest, not even if he tries. With no clocks to be found in the village, it's one of the very few ways Tim can make some approximation of what time it is. Still, the days always seem to feel endless, with everyone basing their days around where the sun's at in the sky, closing themselves inside once it disappears behind the horizon.
On the bright side, he can tell the weather's nice before he even steps outside. The perfect sort of weather for him to put some new gifts to use, a spool of line and fish hooks he got in a box earlier in the month.
It's been awhile since he's had to make his own pole, not having done it since he was a kid, but the process is a basic one. A sturdy, curved stick, with the line wrapped around it and a hook secured at the end. The only thing left to take care of was bait, and it wasn't like there was a bait shop to buy any worms or live crickets from. So, it looked like he was getting even further back to the basics.
Barefoot, in a tank top and overalls rolled up to the calf, he spends the better part of the morning catching crickets in the grass, storing them away in the box his gifts came in for safe keeping. It's a lot of crouching and kneeling, crawling through the damp grass, but it's an oddly therapeutic routine, almost as therapeutic as the fishing itself is, when he gets to it.
That happens around midday, after he's caught plenty of crickets and taken a break to eat lunch. Then, he's by the river again, standing at the bank with his toes in the mud, fishing for whatever the river in this area holds. He's nabbed a bucket from the storage house, and it's half filled with water with a few decent sized fish darting around inside. He figures he'll be able to catch several more before the sun sets, and then he can pass them along to whoever cooks around here to make some meal out of.
He's doing his part, at least. And having a good time while at it.
[ feel free to find him anytime throughout the day around the river! ]
WHERE: The river
WHEN: Backdated to May 10th
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: Just Tim, I Guess
STATUS: Open
Like clockwork, Tim wakes up with the sun. It doesn't matter how late he stays up, doesn't matter what time he finally crawls into bed. He can never seem to sleep past 6:30 at the latest, not even if he tries. With no clocks to be found in the village, it's one of the very few ways Tim can make some approximation of what time it is. Still, the days always seem to feel endless, with everyone basing their days around where the sun's at in the sky, closing themselves inside once it disappears behind the horizon.
On the bright side, he can tell the weather's nice before he even steps outside. The perfect sort of weather for him to put some new gifts to use, a spool of line and fish hooks he got in a box earlier in the month.
It's been awhile since he's had to make his own pole, not having done it since he was a kid, but the process is a basic one. A sturdy, curved stick, with the line wrapped around it and a hook secured at the end. The only thing left to take care of was bait, and it wasn't like there was a bait shop to buy any worms or live crickets from. So, it looked like he was getting even further back to the basics.
Barefoot, in a tank top and overalls rolled up to the calf, he spends the better part of the morning catching crickets in the grass, storing them away in the box his gifts came in for safe keeping. It's a lot of crouching and kneeling, crawling through the damp grass, but it's an oddly therapeutic routine, almost as therapeutic as the fishing itself is, when he gets to it.
That happens around midday, after he's caught plenty of crickets and taken a break to eat lunch. Then, he's by the river again, standing at the bank with his toes in the mud, fishing for whatever the river in this area holds. He's nabbed a bucket from the storage house, and it's half filled with water with a few decent sized fish darting around inside. He figures he'll be able to catch several more before the sun sets, and then he can pass them along to whoever cooks around here to make some meal out of.
He's doing his part, at least. And having a good time while at it.
[ feel free to find him anytime throughout the day around the river! ]